


summer day dreams

by orphan_account



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Agender Character, Drabble Collection, Drinking, F/F, Other, literal bird okuu, prompts from tumblr, tiny stories about gay babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gensokyo is filled with little wisps of dreams; of friendship, love, rivalry, and occasionally of the future. A collection of short drabbles from Tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "stop trying to cheer me up!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marisa is in a very bad mood.

Marisa has always been full speed ahead, in everything. Never discouraged, never letting her guard down, with a constant mischievous grin on her face; Alice is never surprised to see her flying out of the house, mini-Hakkero between the bristles of her broom, after she gets an ingenious (and often dangerous) idea. She doesn’t back down from any challenge; she’s usually the one  _doing_ the challenging, brandishing around spell cards even in the face of huge fear. Alice will never forget Marisa’s loud voice, hands on her hips, as in the depths of a darkened bamboo forest, they faced down the only other Hourai immortal on the planet.

This is exactly why Alice is so taken aback when she walks into the hut after doing her errands and finds Marisa, face down on the floor, making tiny grumpy Marisa noises.

“Marisa?” she asks, and shifts into Extreme Worry Mode when Marisa doesn’t give a response. “Marisa, what’s wrong?”

“Nnghfghhhh,” the witch replies, her gibberish finally fading into a long and pained-sounding sigh. She turns over, her arms flopping outwards into starfish position, and lies on her back facing the ceiling, watching dust fall like snow in the late-afternoon light from the windows.

“Marisa, you’re making me worry,” Alice says uneasily, and sits down next to her, on the splintery plank floor. “Did something happen?”

“Uuuuughhh,” Marisa opens her mouth and groans. “Nah, I just laid down on the floor to make dumb noises for a couple hours. Of  _course_ something happened.”

“That’s no good,” Alice frowns. “Here, let me make you some tea…”

She gets up, brushing off the hem of her dress as she moves over to the makeshift kitchen. Calling a few dolls to her, she whispers to them in a subdued, gentle voice, and soon the little Londons come back, teaming up to drag back a jug of water. Alice pats them on the head, one by one, and then gets to work.

One of Alice’s dolls notices Marisa on the floor, and whirrs over to Alice, pointing its small hand in the witch’s direction. Alice sighs, and murmurs a little, before she dumps the water into the kettle and lights the fire. Soon the water is boiling, and she pours it out over the tea leaves, her movements practiced and calm.

Then a yip of surprise, and Alice turns fast, only to see the Shanghai doll sitting on Marisa’s head.

“Shanghai!” she yelps. “Oh no no no, don’t do that,” and the doll flees just as Marisa sits straight up. Alice frets, bringing over the hot cup of tea to the floor next to Marisa, who accepts it. Shanghai is hovering in the corner, mildly intimidated. “Here, let’s just get you warmed up.”

Marisa blows on the tea, pouting.

“Did something happen with Reimu? That’s the only reason you’d insist on being so grumpy,” Alice asks. “You’re usually up and going after a few minutes…”

Marisa makes a grunting noise of affirmation. “Reimu was being a dummy,” she says, and refuses to say anything else, instead opting to take a sip of the tea.

“She’s always like that,” Alice says. Marisa doesn’t even smile. She tries again. “I have tea cookies today, I went to the Village, would you like some?”

“Nooo,” Marisa groans.

“You never pass up tea cookies! Here, just— take some—” Alice places two in Marisa’s lap.

“Stop trying to cheer me up!” Marisa whines, prodding at the cookies with her pointer finger. “I  _want_ to be sad.”

“They’re… fruit flavored…” Alice says, desperately. Marisa, surprised, takes another sip of her tea.

“They don’t look like it,” she retaliates, but picks one up and hesitantly bites into it anyway. Instantly, Marisa’s eyes go wide as plates, and she flings the tea aside, spilling it all over the wood floors as she rolls onto Alice, half the cookie still in her mouth.

“What  _are_ these?! How did you get these from the Village they’re just like the ones… you… make— oh.  _Ohhhhh_ ,” Marisa gapes. Alice gives her a satisfied smile.

“I thought it might surprise you,” she giggles, and Marisa launches at her again, full force. Star-shaped sprinkles fall from the bag of cookies, all hidden on the inside. Marisa’s favorite, she thinks giddily as the witch kisses her and then shoves another one down her throat.

“I would say stop trying to cheer me up again,” Marisa says, mouth half full, “but I don’t want to stop eating these.” 

"What even happened with Reimu, anyway?"

"Don’t care. Let’s share." Marisa holds one end of the cookie between her teeth, and juts her chin out towards Alice.


	2. "that's a good look for you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suwako gets a very unfortunate sunburn.

Gensokyo is too hot, today. Sanae’s giddy laughter echoes through the shrine as she pokes at her water wings, waves her arms around to listen to the squeaking sounds. Then the pitter-patter of her six-year-old feet, down the hallway, out onto the deck; Kanako is lounging out on the steps sunning herself like a snake, sipping cold sake from a jug, bobbing gently in a bowl of ice water. Suwako is nowhere to be seen.

“Where?” Sanae quietly inquires, leaning over Kanako’s face, casting a small shadow. Kanako sighs, dips her finger in the ice water, then flicks some up on Sanae’s face. The little girl shrieks, shields her cheeks with excitable hands.

“In the bathroom. She’s very sunburned, and isn’t in a good mood at all, so…” Kanako admits. “Don’t bother her, okay, sweetie?”

Sanae pouts, plopping down on the steps next to her adoptive mom, swinging her little feet just barely above the ground. “We were gonna go swimming,” she whines. “She was gonna teach me to swim without my wings. And I made her a present!"

“What did you make her?”

“A… wind chime, thing…” she says, standing up and swaying bashfully from side to side. Kanako chuckles. For such a little girl, Sanae is quite gifted at crafts, and will work till she falls asleep on a new project for her moms or her friends. Kanako insists she picked it up from Nitori, but Suwako isn’t so sure. “When’s Mommy gonna come back?”

“I don’t know, really,” Kanako says, leaving her whole hand in the ice water now. “I’ll go in and check on her in a bit, okay, love?”

“All right…”

Sanae, thoroughly dissatisfied with this predicament, trudges off through the hallways to sit at the front steps. Probably with her water wings still on, Kanako thinks, and muffles a laugh. She stretches out, extending her toes and fingers as high as they go, her body long and lithe and very, very sleepy. Then she stands up, a bit wobbly, and takes the sake back inside with her in case a drunken tengu makes off with it.

Quickly, she peeks through the hall to the front entryway, to check if Sanae’s gone where she usually does. True to form, their daughter is sitting out on the front steps, just beside the opening of the torii gate. She’s laughing and waving her hands excitedly as she talks with Nitori, her kappa friend from down the mountain. Kanako nods, then turns sharply to the right and walks into the master bedroom.

“Suwako, are you in here? Suwako,” she calls, somewhat anxiously. The sliding door to the bathrooms opens slightly, as if someone were barely pushing it back with an index finger. A strand of blonde hair, then a blinking eye, peeking through the crack of the door.

“You can’t hide in there all day,” Kanako sighs, and on cue Suwako throws open the sliding door. She’s sitting at the side of the bathtub, with an impatient expression on her face. She’s quite a sight, and Kanako wastes a good three years’ worth of effort making sure she doesn’t laugh out loud. Suwako is wearing her loose, ragged tank top and those paisley-patterned pajama shorts that Kanako has been so keen on getting rid of lately. She’s pouting as she dips her legs tentatively into the bathtub.

“I can’t take baths anymore!” Suwako shouts, turning around suddenly. Her arms are barred with sunburn, precise lines of red all down her back. Kanako remembers a book from the outside world, and grins wide.

“I think we found Waldo,” she teases. Suwako groans an emphatic _nooooooooo._ She turns around, flicks some hot water from the bath onto Kanako’s face. “What’s with your habit of taking hot baths in summer anyway?”

“I never told you that? I like it because it makes the outdoor heat not-so-hot,” Suwako says. Her arms are crossed, and she’s kicking the water a little more forcefully now. “This is all your fault!”

“You were the one who didn’t bring the sunscreen when I asked.”

“ _You_ were the one who suggested we sit under the lattice,” Suwako retaliates. “If it weren’t for you, I would have got a prettier sunburn."

“All right, that may have been an I told you so for _not bringing the sunscreen._ ” Kanako laughs, sits up on the side of the bath next to her. She dips her feet in. “Also, how can sunburns be pretty at— ow! You run your baths so hot!”

Suwako giggles, at that.

“Anyway,” Kanako says, once she has regained her composure, “I’m sorry about this nuisance. We have aloe, though, if you’d like to put some on your arms.”

“Yay! That sounds good,” Suwako exclaims. Kanako doesn’t move, however, and after a couple of minutes, she continues.

“Weeeeeeell?”

“Let’s wait a bit, though,” Kanako says, leaning over to kiss Suwako’s nose. “That’s a good look for you.”

Suwako _blushes--_  then understands the implications of Kanako’s words, and promptly pushes her into the bath, clothes and all.


	3. "it's never too late."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichirin and Murasa have a nighttime routine, on days like this. (features agender murasa)

At the end of the day you lie next to Ichirin in the double futon (Byakuren made arrangements once she found out you two were dating) and rest your body for a little while. Ichirin sits up beside you, letting her hair down, brushing through it quietly. You breathe in, then out, still (after all these years!) adjusting to the feeling of oxygen rather than water in your lungs. When she’s done yanking all the tangles from her hair, she sets the brush down next to the futon and begins talking. Her voice is soft, breathy, with a somehow lilting cadence, and it’s so soothing just to listen to her.

“Basically, Hijiri thought that I was the one pranking her, but it turned out to be Nue pretending to be me! I can’t believe it, I don’t even know how Hijiri thought that was even possible, you know how I am…”

“Don’t lie,” you tease, poking her thigh lazily with your pointer finger. “You prank her all the time.”

“Okay but they’re harmless pranks. Mainly I just drink the last of her tea when nobody’s looking,” Ichirin retaliates, and you shrug. “But Nue was replacing the sugar for her tea cakes with salt, interrupting her sermons, stealing the sutra drum… Honestly, I don’t know how Hijiri hasn’t kicked her out yet.”

“She’s just… that kinda person, I guess,” you yawn, turning over onto your stomach. Ichirin moves over towards you, then swings one leg over your side and straddles you, pressing her thumbs between your shoulder blades, the one part of your back not covered by your binder. You let out a sigh, and reach under your arms to start to undo it. Ichirin notices.

“Oh no no no, you don’t have to do that if you’re uncomfortable.”

“You worry too much. I kinda need a back massage anyway,” you say, stretching your fingertips and toes as far as they’ll go. As you sit up, she takes over for you, patient hands unfastening the clasps one by one. When it’s off you lie back down, and Ichirin sits on your lower back as she traces the lines of your tattoo.

It’s an intricate ship, from the nape of your neck to midway down your back, all of it lined in deep blue. You never quite get to see it, since you don’t like to look at yourself in the mirror without a shirt or binder on, but Ichirin loves it, cherishes it, runs her fingers over it like it’s a map. Like she’s charting a course through your skin with her fingertips.

You place your chin in your hands, absently pointing and flexing your feet one after the other. She traces over you, delicately, her lines precise and pointed as the ones inside your skin. When she gets to the final line, the bottom hull of the ship, the place she always ends every time she does this, you shiver. Her fingers slide off your back, then lift. She presses the heels of her hands between your shoulder blades, then braces them against your spine. “Breathe in,” she says, and you comply, taking a long gulp of air before she presses down hard. You feel your back crack, release its tension, and exhale in a satisfied breath.

Ichirin continues all the way up your back, until you feel loose and unburdened, and then starts to work on your tense muscles. You melt into the futon, sighing as you feel all the weight lift from your bones, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the sensation of her warm hands on your back. When she progresses, finally, back up to your shoulders, she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, then swings her leg back over. You pull her down with you, bring her closer as she pulls the covers up over the two of you. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you let her curl into you, facing her and watching as in the dim candlelight she gives you the smile you could hang on for years.

You stay like this for a while, breathing in each other, legs tangled up and inseparable. Without noticing, your hand has already drifted up to cup her cheek.

“Is it too late for me to kiss you?”

“It’s not too late,” she breathes, before moving in towards you, her lips parted and just centimeters from yours. “It’s _never_  too late,” comes the whisper, from the corner of her mouth, as you kiss her.


	4. night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> second set of prompts on tumblr: terumoko, night

Kaguya's sipping chilled sake on the Eientei porch when you find her. From the bamboo bushes you throw a stone, far enough away to miss her but close enough to catch her attention. It works-- immediately she stands up, leaving the flask bobbing in the bowl of ice water, and shouts into the night.

"Excuse me, Mokou," she frowns, but her affected tone hides her amusement when she steps off the porch and pretends to look around. You know she sees you-- you're not even trying to hide. "No stone throwing."

"Damn," you say, emerging from the bushes. "You're lucky I have bad aim." 

When you finally stagger through the rest of the brush, Kaguya's sitting on the edge of the porch waiting for you, swirling the sake in its flask. Groaning, you sit next to her and light a cigarette with the tip of your finger.

"Careful! You'll burn my hair," Kaguya frets, but you can tell by the quirk of her lips that she's not serious. This is what you're good at; the constant dance of fibbing and sarcasm and shooting the breeze, how you inexplicably hate but love each other's company. You puff teasingly on the cigarette, and she gives a huffy sigh.

"Here," she says, shoving the flask at you. "Have a drink."

You take it without hesitation, pick up Kaguya's sake dish, and without turning it once, drink the whole thing in one gulp. She tilts her head back in fake-exasperation.

"Are you coming on to me? That's an indirect kiss, Mokou," she points out.

"Maybe. Maybe not." You grin, and pour yourself another cup. The cool metal surface feels refreshing against your lips, in the late summer heat that lingers heavily even at night. Half of Kaguya's face is drenched in moonlight, the other half shadowed by the porch roof. You down the next cup, then set it between you and Kaguya.

Her hand sneaks down to take it, in your peripheral vision, while you look straight into the darkness of the bamboo forest. You don't raise your head even as you hear the fresh sound of pouring sake, but you _do_  when Kaguya brings the dish to her lips and drinks, without turning it even the slightest. As if she remembers exactly where your lips touched the rim.

"Shit, are you coming on to _me?"_ you chuckle, as she leans in slightly to you, thoroughly tipsy.

"Maybe. Maybe not," she echoes. You feel an affectionate frustration well up in your ribcage.

"Fuck you."

As if proving her point, she takes another shallow sip, not quite finished with where the afterimage of your lips lingered.

You wait till she finishes the rest of the dish, and then push her with the heel of your foot, just hard enough to tip her over. She giggles as she falls, and it's so goddamn _cute_ that it enrages you the slightest bit.

"Hate you," you mutter, under your breath.

"Love you too."

The night comes over everything like a dark silk veil.


	5. keeping a secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks to ashley for this prompt and the next... what.... eight prompts i'm hopefully going to get done

As far as Utsuho is concerned, Orin is the best secret keeper _ever_.

She knew exactly what was happening when Utsuho's power was going out of control, and made sure Satori-sama didn't hear about it. Even though, admittedly, she _did_ end up sending a message up to the surface, which _may_ have ended up bringing a strong human down to the underground, which in _turn_ ended up with Utsuho getting the sense knocked back into her... but she's grateful for that. at least it wasn't Satori-sama who found out. Utsuho has seen her angry only once, and she makes sure not to remember it. (Her memory isn't the best anyway, which is sometimes an advantage.)

Orin was also the one who made sure no one knew they were dating until Utsuho was okay with saying it out loud. Of course her little cheek kisses in the middle of breakfast weren't much of a secret, so that might be a bad example. She was also the only one who knew about Utsuho's secret nests in the rafters full of shiny things, which Satori-sama would be very upset about if she found out. _But_ Orin did end up falling out of the nest when they were looking through Utsuho's shinies together, bringing a large antique gold locket crashing to the ground with her, which Satori-sama heard, and somehow it ended up being _Satori-sama's_ locket, which in retrospect was not the best decision to take in the first place, but she found it on a dresser once and how could she resist? 

It wasn't Orin's fault, though, at all. There are just some secrets that aren't meant to be kept, and Orin was good at keeping them until they didn't want to be kept anymore. That's all there was to it.


End file.
